


Let it end like this

by marguerite_26



Series: Pornathon 2012 [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Sibling Incest, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-11
Updated: 2012-09-11
Packaged: 2017-11-14 01:06:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/509689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marguerite_26/pseuds/marguerite_26
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur wakes to a bomb slamming the earth. The room lights in a blinding red flash. Morgana’s a silhouette of wild hair hovering by his bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let it end like this

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to eleadore for the beta. Written for summerpornathon week 2: Fuck or Die / Apocalypse challenge.

Arthur wakes to a bomb slamming the earth. The room lights in a blinding red flash. Morgana’s a silhouette of wild hair hovering by his bed.

“What is it?” he asks once his ears stop ringing.

“I’m scared, Arthur.” She’s trembling, stumbling towards him. She looks nothing like his brave older sister who has stood strong through the horrors of the last few months, kept him sane while he waits impatiently to be old enough to join fight. 

He shifts over and offers her a spot on his bed; it’s freezing in this dank cellar. Just one more reason to hate this safehouse. “Father’ll be back soon. It’ll be okay.” He brushes the curls from her face. His confidence shatters when he feels the wetness of her cheeks. Morgana hasn’t cried in years.

“It won’t be.” Her eyes are wild. They glow red in the light of another explosion. “I had a dream. Arthur, it’s the end of the world.”

She pulls him forward, crushing their chests together and the lace of her nightie scratches his bare nipples. His belly squirms at the contact. He tries to put some distance between them, but she’s hysterical, clinging to him like she never has before.

“It’s just a dream,” he lies. They both know better -- when Morgana dreams, it happens -- but he can’t bear to think of that now and there’s nothing else to say. He repeats, “It’s just a dream.” He lifts the covers. She tucks in beside him like they did when they were kids and their father was gone for weeks _on army business_ , before they both got too old to hold each other through the night.

She seems soothed by the familiarity of it. Arthur breathes a sigh of relief and tries to get comfortable next to her on the narrow mattress. They’re much bigger now. Arthur shoulders have broadened and Morgana’s suddenly all soft curves. He’s at a loss where to put his hands, before deciding it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters any longer; they both need the comfort. Morgana’s draped over him, her satin-covered chest pressed against his, and their bare legs tangled together. Arthur rubs her back until her breathing calms. Her eyes flutter shut.

His mind races, needing to know what she dreamt. He stares at her, heart aching at the tension in every shadow on his sister’s face. A year ago she’d been laughing, carefree and full of life as they’d raced their mares across the Pendragon lands. A year ago they’d lived in a world sheltered from the war.

Her eyes snap open. “It’s coming.” She looks manic, staring into nothingness. It’s like this sometimes after a dream where she needs grounding to bring her back to the present.

He presses his forehead to hers and whispers, “We’re together, Morgana. Here. Now.” He twists their fingers together -- another childhood intimacy long forgotten. “Let it end, I say.” He sounds much braver, much older than he feels.

She laughs, and he’s so relieved to see the clarity in her eyes that he laughs too and kisses her cheek.

Looking at him, her eyes soften. “Together,” she whispers and presses her lips to his.

When she pulls back Arthur swallows thickly, licking lips that taste of his sister’s mouth. His breathing’s gone funny. His body's flushed, heat swirling in his groin in a way that it shouldn’t as he thinks upon every place their bodies touch. His cock, trapped in only y-fronts, is pressing against Morgana’s inner thigh. He feels the heat of her and he squeezes his eyes shut not to roll his hips.

“I’m tired of being scared,” she breathes and kisses him again. This time it’s soft, wet, growing more urgent with each heartbeat.

He’s not sure who moves first. It’s instinct and desperation positioning them, certainly not thought. She spreads her legs and he kneels between them. They yank at his pants until they’re pulled taut at his thighs, the waistband ripping. He falls to his elbows, panting into her shoulder, trying to find his control. He’s lost though once his hips jerk forward and his cock slides against her wet mound.

She whimpers, her nails scratching his back.

The lights of an explosion fill the room again, and Arthur thrusts in, frantic and inexperienced, overwhelmed by the heat and the slick softness he finds between Morgana’s legs. They cling to each other, trembling like children.

They are all they have left. So let it end like this.

**Author's Note:**

> comment on [the livejournal post](http://marguerite-26.livejournal.com/706738.html) if you prefer.


End file.
